


all alone (together)

by renecdote



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, apocalyptic wasteland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:34:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27569890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renecdote/pseuds/renecdote
Summary: He hates that Jason is right; that they’re probably going to die out here, in the middle of this apocalyptic nowhere.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 83





	all alone (together)

**Author's Note:**

> Short little thing written for a tumblr prompt (“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.")

They’ve been walking for hours. Walking and walking and walking. Dick is getting dizzy watching his footsteps. He lifts his head and finds the copse of trees they’re heading for isn’t so impossibly far away now. Just a hundred yard or less, he thinks, but he could be wrong, the dizziness makes judging distances kind of hard. It’s only the promise of rest when they reach the trees that is keeping Dick walking. Walking and walking and walking. His legs aren’t legs, they’re just sticks of jello that wobble and give out as soon as he stops moving. He has to crawl the last few feet to slump against a tree, leaning back against the trunk, breathing raggedly.

Jason collapses beside him much more gracefully.

Above them, the sky is a threatening grey. Dick hopes it’s not more acid rain, because if it is they’re fucked out here in the open.

He almost laughs. As if they’re not fucked anyway. 

Jason’s jacket is around his shoulders, but Dick still shivers. He tries to pull it tighter. Beside him, Jason crosses his arms loosely over his knees and frowns at his boots. The wind makes his hair wild.

“Aren’t you cold?” Dick asks. 

Jason’s armour is long gone. His tank top is thin, his jeans are ripped. Dark stains mar both. Blood or oil or mud; maybe all three. It’s been a rough few days. 

“No,” Jason says. He lifts a hand and presses it against Dick’s forehead. “And neither are you.”

Dick pushes his brother’s hand away but Jason just moves down to inspect the wound on his stomach. Dick doesn’t want to look; he doesn’t want to know how bad it is. As long as he can tell himself he’s fine, he can believe everything will be alright. They’ll find a way out of here, they’ll hold on long enough for someone to find them. Batman, Robin, the Justice League, the Titans, whatever rescue squad gets sent after them. 

Jason’s touch is gentle but it still makes Dick hiss. 

“I’m fine,” he says when Jason looks up at him. 

“Yeah,” Jason deadpans, “fine.”

He pushes himself up and walks away, back to the edge of the road. He frowns in the direction they’ve been heading for a long moment before coming back and sitting beside Dick, just around the corner of the tree so Dick can’t see his face without twisting. And twisting hurts.

Dick does it anyway.

“Hey,” he says, “We’ll get out of here.”

Jason snorts. “We don’t even know where here is.”

“We know it’s Earth. America, even; probably the east coast.” 

That’s about all they know though. There’s not much in the way of recognisable geography in the wasteland stretching out around them. The few buildings they’ve come across have been nothing more than husks; just rotting wood and corroded metal. There are a few plants, most of them sick and wilted, but Dick hasn’t seen a single animal. Not even a cockroach. 

He’s pretty sure that’s not a good sign.

The sky is getting darker. Dick can’t tell whether it’s night moving in or the storm growing closer. Both, maybe.

“We should keep moving,” Jason says. He’s staring up at the sky as well. 

“Keep moving where?”

Dick regrets it as soon as he says it. He wishes he could take it back, that he could reach back through time and wire his jaw shut before the words slipped out. He wishes even more that he didn’t mean it. That he didn’t feel as wrung-out and hopeless as he sounds.

Jason rounds on him, anger lit like a match, hot and sudden as he snaps back, “I don’t fucking know, Dick—somewhere! Somewhere we can get you medical treatment, somewhere we can find some answers, somewhere there are other people so I don’t go crazy putting up with you myself—somewhere other than fucking here!"

Like a match, the anger fizzles away, flame burning down to charred despair. 

“Anywhere has gotta be better than dying here.”

“Hey.” Dick shifts closer, pushing through the stabbing pain to put himself right in his brother’s space, get a hand on his arm and squeeze. “I’m not gonna die, okay? I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Jason stares back at him. “Maybe I wasn’t talking about you.”

Dick swallows. He hates how defeated his brother sounds. He hates that he can’t do anything to fix it.

He hates that Jason is right; that they’re probably going to die out here, in the middle of this apocalyptic nowhere. 

“We’re both going to get out of here,” he says anyway. “Alive.”

Jason laughs bitterly. He shrugs away from Dick’s hand. “Always the fucking optimist.”

“Well someone has to be,” Dick snaps back. He’s tired and sore and weak—and yeah, he’s probably dying from the infected wound on his stomach. Hope is the only goddamn thing he has left. He’ll cling it with his teeth if he has to.

“Face it, Dick.” Jason’s voice is heavy. “We’re alone out here. Help isn’t coming.”

Dick sets his jaw stubbornly. He looks Jason right in the eye and makes him look back.

“Then we’ll just have to save each other.”

Even if it’s the last thing they do.


End file.
